Courier's Journal: Week One

Day 2: October 20th 2281

Ended up sleeping in the saloon last night, since I didn't find anybody to go home with. Unusual for me, but not surprising in hindsight. Turns out Sunny Smiles lives with Trudy. And a third woman. In a house with a single bed. So yeah, no wonder I struck out there, but the three of them did still invite me over to their place for breakfast this morning once I shook off my hangover. They wanted to thank me, because that third woman I mentioned was none other than the gecko lady! The one I saved yesterday. Yeah. Her name is Sally. No idea why her and Sunny didn't say anything to each other at the time, but they gave me a nice pre-war book as a parting gift, a Chinese Army training manual, which is written in English for some reason. I always enjoy some good reading material, so I'll give it a look when I have some time to savour it.

After that, I got ready to head out. Ringo had already left before me, so he wasn't there when I went up to the garage, but he did leave a few bits behind, so I again sold everything there to Chet, mostly food and alcohol. I bought a small satchel to carry some supplies for the trail and a few keepsakes from Goodsprings like the snowglobe and my book, and then I ventured south. Trudy told me the other day that the Khans and the man who shot me were supposedly heading up to New Vegas. But the northern route is dangerous right now, so she said that they were likely taking the southern route through Primm. I've decided that this is my best course of action as well.

It didn't take long before I got distracted and veered off the road, though. On my way out of town, I saw a pack of coyotes in the distance, and decided to get in some target practice with my varmint rifle, since coyotes are a menace and won't be missed. But my philosophy of not wasting food kicked in, and I went over to skin them and harvest the meat, at which point I stumbled upon their den. It was pretty grisly inside. I found a few bodies and gave them an impromptu cremation once the coyotes were dealt with, and took back everything I found there. Conveniently, one of the victims had left an undamaged duffle bag behind, so I traded in my satchel for it. I can fit a lot more guns in a bag this size. And one of the corpses, a ghoul in a strange robe, had a laser pistol on him which I used for parts to fix up the one Doc Mitchell gave me.

I made a quick return trip to Goodsprings to sell the coyote meat and the other contents of the bag to Chet, and then returned to the trail, this time heading through the hills rather than by road. I was meaning to stop by Goodsprings Source to refill my water bottles, but I was stopped on the way by a strange man called Barton, who had a not very smart plan.

There was a refrigerator and a foot locker up on a nearby hill, containing what he obviously thought was some valuable treasure, but which was in fact just some food and playing cards. There were also several geckos in the way. Barton, apparently unable handle these geckos by himself (which as we have established, are fairly stupid creatures with no sense of self-preservation whatsoever), planned to trick someone else into clearing out the geckos for him by making up a sob story about his girlfriend being trapped. Then he'd swoop in after the way was clear, kill the helper, and then take the "treasure" for himself.

I was, of course, the one who got suckered into saving this imaginary girlfriend, since I have this annoying compulsion to help people in trouble. So yes, you could say that he fooled me, but in my defence, I'm not sure how I ever could have anticipated a plan this ill-conceived. I mean, for one thing, I don't know why Barton thought he could handle killing a fellow armed wastelander when he couldn't even handle geckos. I'd understand if he tried to get the drop on me, maybe shot me in the back or something, but he ran up the hill in full view and confronted me right out in the open, and even confessed his whole plan before even pulling a gun on me. Not to mention that he was in casual clothes, while I was wearing full leather armour over a vault jumpsuit.

Needless to say, he's dead now, and I have no idea how he ever expected it to end any other way. The whole encounter was more confusing than dangerous. But on the plus side, I found some nice-looking armour beneath the cliff. I see it worn by mercenaries a lot. Not as protective as the leather, but it's lighter and more comfortable, so I switched it out.

After that encounter, I returned to the road. I found a nice hat on a skeleton in a fridge, and met a friendly wasteland adventurer. We talked a bit, and did some trading. He didn't have much I wanted, but he needed some extra stimpaks, so I gave him one for some 10mm rounds (which I later traded for 9mm at Chet's). He bought my old leather armour, too. Further along, I came across a pre-war skydiving school and went in to check it out. Found a weapons locker in there that I think was being used by the Powder Gangers. It had a shotgun, but not a very good one, so I just took it to sell on.

Primm was to the south, but I headed north here instead, taking the road towards the NCRCF where the Powder Gangers broke out. Along the way, I found where Ringo's caravan was ambushed, and got into another shootout with the Powder Gangers. I was outnumbered, and I might've been in trouble if Victor hadn't made a surprise appearance and distracted them long enough for me to get some shots in. Said he felt responsible for me and wanted to help out. Which was... nice of him, I guess, though now I have this uneasy feeling that he was following me. After how he was unknowingly hacked in the Goodsprings fight, I'm more than a little wary of being followed by strange robots, no matter how outwardly friendly they are.

Still, undaunted, I followed the road east to the prison, making sure to change into my Powder Ganger disguise before I got there, and I even found a third stealth boy in the trailer where I stopped to change. I ran into a few wild dogs on the road to the prison, but they went down easy.

I approached the prison with peaceful intentions. I honestly did. I just wanted to see if I could talk the Powder Gangers into leaving the locals alone, now that Goodsprings had shown they weren't afraid of them. Maybe I even hoped that they might turn themselves back in to the NCR if I was persuasive enough. I know my brother always called me a pussy for it, but I believe in showing mercy where possible, and I was sure that I could get through to someone here.

And it seemed to be working at first! I approached the prison and talked with the gate guard, Dawes, and even though he saw through my disguise, he was still willing to talk. He opened up a little about the gang and his personal history, and he even said he'd let me inside for a hundred caps, which I gladly paid. I thought I was in. But just as I was about to head into the visitor centre... I don't even know what happened! He just suddenly flipped the fuck out and pulled a gun on me! I almost got shot! Lucky for me he missed, and I blasted his head off before he could try again.

What the hell, Dawes?

You can imagine how that went over. The Powders in the guard towers saw and heard us, so I ran inside before they could snipe me. Of course, that just meant that I ran directly into a room full of armed men who'd just heard gunshots outside. Fortunately, not all of them were prepared, so spraying the room with a 9mm submachine gun took care of some of them, and for the rest, I quickly stepped back outside, lit some dynamite, and tossed it through the door. I made kind of a mess of the place, but there was no time to stop. It was kill or be killed at this point, and the rest of the prison were converging on me.

There was only one entrance into the visitor's centre from the prison side, so I was able to take advantage of that. Most of the prisoners weren't too smart, and came running to get a shot at me. I was able to stay near the door and fire outside at them. The assisted targeting system was a life-saver here. Literally. I had an entire prison's worth of convicts coming for me, some firing guns, some throwing dynamite, and from behind my cover, I picked them all off one by one. At one point, I actually shot a stick of dynamite mid-air and caused it to explode and kill the guy who threw it. It was probably the most badass stunt I've ever pulled.

Eventually I had to pull back into the visitor's centre because there were just too many of them, but that actually worked to my advantage too. They got overexcited by my retreat and all ran in after me, which bottlenecked them down a narrow hallway. Made them easy targets for the submachine gun. Not to say that I didn't need a stimpak or two when it was over, but for the odds I was up against, it went pretty smoothly. When I was done, the prison fell quiet, and I was fairly sure that I'd killed every single Powder Ganger in there.

But I hadn't, of course. It was a while before I dared venture outside again to see if there were any survivors, and there weren't any in the courtyard, but I did find several more while exploring the prison. There were still a few Powder Gangers holed up in the prison blocks who I had to deal with, and the administration building was a whole separate battle. I was attacked as soon as I came through the door, and had to run back outside. Fortunately, once again, they all rushed out after me and clustered together as they came through the door, so a liberal use of explosives took care of them. And after that, I really had killed everyone in the prison, or at least everyone who hadn't ran away as soon as they could.

So... I feel bad about this? Just a bit? I mean, not to say that I haven't killed people in self-defence before, but I've never killed upwards of thirty people at once in self-defence. Past a certain point, you really have to take a step back, look at the mountain of corpses you're standing upon, and ask yourself if you're really the good guy in this scenario.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I regret defending myself. Everyone gets one chance, and if they use that chance to shoot at me, then they're fair game as far as I'm concerned (unless I've given them just cause to shoot first, such as, hypothetically, approaching them in the middle of the night while covered in blood and screaming). But this was not what I set out to achieve today, and in hindsight, this whole mess was probably avoidable. I just wish I knew what the hell I did wrong! Me and Dawes were getting along fine one minute, and the next, he was trying to kill me! What was it? Did he recognise my hat and realise I killed a friend of his? Did he have a psychotic break? Did he just want to rob me? Was it really a spur of the moment decision, or was he planning to shoot me the whole time, and just waiting for me to lower my guard? I don't know. I'm so confused.

I guess it doesn't matter now. What's important is that I've taken down the largest body of Powder Gangers in the area, cleared out their main stronghold, and probably killed their leaders. It feels surreal to say this, but I may have single-handedly nipped this problem in the bud. To whatever extent they had any organisation before, I've probably thrown it into complete disarray. I guess if there's one positive thing to be said for what I've done here, it's that it means less trouble for the locals, and an easier time for the NCR whenever they come to reclaim the prison. So... maybe I did a good thing here?

Maybe.

Still, fucking why, Dawes?

Killed: Coyotes, geckos, Barton Thorn, Dawes, and too many Powder Gangers to count. Also... some wild dogs, I guess?

Today's dinner: Tried to make coyote steak, but burned it. Made a feast using preserved foods around the prison instead.

Had sex with: Not really been any opportunities today. For fuck's sake, Dawes.

Day 2: October 20th 2281 UPDATE

Didn't think I'd be making a second entry today. After writing my last one, I spent most of the afternoon just trawling through the prison, looting the bodies, and picking out anything interesting. I found a book called Lying, Congressional Style, a working plasma rifle, some schematics for an IED that I'm very excited about, and of course, lots of ammo, caps, guns, food, booze, chems, and explosives. Even some NCR money. My best find was hydra. It's pretty nasty stuff, but it's damn good battlefield medicine. Numbs pain, fixes broken bones better than any stimpak, and it works fast. Probably the only good thing that Caesar's Legion ever brought into the world.

I also found some good parts and ingredients around the prison. There were some honey mesquite trees just over the hill, and some spare Mentats lying around, so I mixed up some PTMs. I'd rather not fall back into bad habits if I can help it, but if I need to use Mentats, I want them to do the job right. And there were also some tools and components around which might be good for weapon maintenance. If only I could remember how the hell I used to assemble the kits; those bullets might have left some lasting impact after all.

Anyway, there was too much at the prison to haul everything back to Goodsprings in one go, so I didn't take everything. I lightened the load a little by taking some guns apart and using them to fix up my own weapons, particularly my rifle and submachine gun. I also had way more energy cells than I needed, so I broke them down and made overcharge cells. It takes a few regular cells to make overcharges, so it lightens my load somewhat, and they're better quality and hit harder, too.

Once I'd gotten the weight down, I hauled everything I looted back to Goodsprings, and sold it all to Chet again, except for the book, schematics, and plasma rifle, as well as a few grenades. He's actually doing fairly well for caps now. I guess he made a tidy profit selling back everything I brought in. I left with a good few caps myself. I may not be the best salesman, but mines and dynamite are worth something to everybody. I even had the components on hand to assemble a satchel charge for a few extra caps. Since I had the money to spare, I also went ahead and got myself a heavy duty cylinder and a longer barrel for my .357 revolver, which should hopefully improve performance and make it last a little longer. Still pretty sure I'm being ripped off, but hey, it's not like I'm starving anytime soon.

But this is all mostly uneventful. I probably would've waited until tomorrow to write about all of this if I hadn't been approached in Goodsprings by a man called Malcolm Holmes. Malcolm is a retired collector of rare Sunset Sarsaparilla star bottle caps, one of which I apparently picked up at Jean Sky Diving earlier today. He explained to me that he saw me leave with it, and secretly followed me around for most of the day, because I didn't show any strong reaction to it, and he was debating whether to approach and warn me about what I'd found. How very nice and slightly creepy of him.

He said that people collect these rare caps because there's apparently a legend in the Mojave that someone called Festus guards a secret treasure, which he will only give up to someone who has enough star bottle caps. Supposedly he's been guarding it ever since before the Great War, which would make him pretty old. Older than me, even. Either a robot or a really determined ghoul, then. Malcolm also said that men have killed over these stars, and that I should watch myself if I plan to start collecting too. There's a man called Allen Marks who's supposedly killed several people over these stars already, which I would normally find worrying, but after all the crazy shit I pulled off today... yeah, I'm pretty sure I can take him.

Oddly enough, I actually seem to have two star bottle caps already. Not sure where I picked up the second, but I'm going to guess at the prison.

It's beginning to get dark out now, so I may as well sleep. I've just been writing this journal update and finishing up my map of the Mojave before bed. The Pip-Boy's custom map marker feature lets me tag the places I've been, which is helpful for letting me know where I am relative to everything else. So far, I've put down tags for Goodsprings, Goodsprings Source, the cemetery, the cave, Jean Sky Diving, and the NCRCF, and I plan to tag more places as I come across them. I'll make notes in this journal where necessary to list where I've tagged.

Actually, no. That's stupid. From now on, whenever I tag a new location, I'll just bold its name in this journal with the Pip-Boy's formatting features. I don't want to end up obsessively listing things at the end of each entry, do I? That'd just be silly. What kind of deranged person would do that?

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: Nothing else so far, fortunately.

Today's dinner: Already ate.

Had sex with: A pillow I found.

Author's notes:

When I first began writing Courier's Journal, I deliberately set out to make my version of the Courier what TV Tropes calls a contrasting sequel character. Where I wrote the Lone Wanderer as a kill-crazy psycho, the Courier was supposed to be a technical pacifist. Where the Wanderer was a cynical misanthrope who sneered at other wastelanders, the Courier was supposed to be an aggressively nice, bright-eyed idealist. Where the Wanderer was a virgin for most of the story, the Courier is an apocalyptic-level slut. Et cetera, et cetera.

That characterisation has been slightly adjusted for the rewrite, as I felt that some key elements weren't coming across clearly enough, or in some cases were even coming across too strong.

The Courier's tendency to regularly stop to bury or cremate people, for example, I think was a joke that got old fast, and it's impractical both from a writing perspective and in-universe for him to spend so much time on it, especially when he's meant to be in pursuit of Benny, a chase which he already delays more than enough. And while I found his frequent melodramatic bemoaning of the need for violence amusing, it also felt a little out of place for a character who I otherwise imagine as a seasoned wastelander who undoubtedly learned his lesson about the necessity of violence a long, long time ago.

On the other hand, some elements of his character in the original version still felt too similar to the Wanderer, such as the way he mocked and insulted characters like Barton Thorne. That kind of disdain was very Wanderer-esque, and was probably something I wrote out of habit from having worked on Wanderer's Diary for so long. But it doesn't fit this version of the Courier very well, who's more the type to feel either pity or confusion for the antics of ill-fated idiots like Barton. I think the rewrite gives the Courier some more consistent characterisation.